


Kingfisher

by dissatisfied_doodles



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Original Female Character - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Female Character, Self-Insert, what are tenses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-07-21 03:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissatisfied_doodles/pseuds/dissatisfied_doodles
Summary: “For man, and for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.”-D.H. LawrenceDying doesn’t come as a surprise, but being reincarnated into the Narutoverse sure in the hell does.Meet Hisui Arashi, a modern day girl who passes too soon and wakes too early as she faces the trials and tribulations of the ninja world and learns to spread her wings and soar.





	1. I live; I die; the sea comes over me; it’s the blue that lasts

Dying was a process that felt nearly mechanical.

 

I wasn’t necessarily incredibly upset about dying, as I had been sick for so long at that point it wasn’t quite a relief but an eventuality. 

I made it to my early twenties and already that’s about a quarter of a long lifespan. It wasn’t the greatest but there were good times. I did good things. I made peace with dying. 

 

Dying was a process, but waking up after death sure came as one hell of a surprise. 

 

Getting squeezed out of a horrifying tunnel and into a cold, vast expanse was terrifying. I didn’t immediately correlate what was happening with any sort of life-after-death experience. I was screaming my fool head off in fear and pain as I was getting hefted around like a sack of potatoes. 

 

You can’t really blame me for screaming; though I had been sick and dependent on others for any form of mobility before the  _ experience _ that doesn’t necessarily translate to being nearly blind, naked, and enveloped in what felt like the beefiest, meatiest hands I had ever encountered. I was scrubbed clean quickly and dispassionately, which, once again, wasn’t that unusual but the sheer scale of everything in comparison to me was utterly alien. 

My flailing limbs were wrapped tightly in cloth and I was gently placed within waiting arms. I could scarcely see over the blankets surrounding me, and I let my screaming die down to a terrified muteness. 

 

_ Oh.  _

 

_ That’s not normal at all.  _

 

What my blinking, bleary eyes could barely make up over the scratchy fabric restraining me was a face of immense proportions. I had a brief moment where I thought that my agnostic self was about to be lectured on the truth of divinity and morality when the face cooed loudly at me and continued to speak utter gibberish. A massive hand reached out and cupped the  _ entirety  _ of my head as I choked on my tongue in an attempt to articulate my confusion. A second voice cut in on the chatter and another impossibly large face slowly blurred into existence beside the first. I could barely tell an eye from a nose, but I got the impression that both giants were smiling and crying and -by the hand cradling my head and the arms holding me tight- beyond happy to see me. 

 

_ Oh.  _ I thought, wrestling rubbery and unresponsive muscles into a nervous smile. 

_ Reincarnation.  _

 

A second lease on life wasn’t an unwelcome prospect, just not something I ever put much thought into. 

 

Though I suppose I certainly never thought that I’d reincarnate into the Narutoverse - not that I knew that yet. 


	2. As there I left the road in May, And took my way along a ground,  I found a glade with girls at play, By leafy boughs close-hemmed around

The first few months in my new life were marked with discomfort. 

Now, I’m used to discomfort. I’m not really  _ complaining _ but it  _ was _ uncomfortable. The sky is blue, water is wet, I was uncomfortable. 

 

A low-grade, persistent itching sensation started up sometime after I was taken from my parent’s arms and moved to a non-descript baby basin. At first the sensation was annoying, then it continued to spread from center mass to all my extremities. Which, you know,  _ is _ worrisome. It fluctuated but didn’t abate. I tried moving around to get more comfortable but my blankets weren’t having it. I started to fuss out of sheer frustration because something was  _ wrong _ and no one was around to do anything. 

 

My first few months of life weren’t the easiest on my new parents. 

I couldn’t communicate it any way and could barely see. I couldn’t pass on  _ what  _ was bothering me, just that I was indeed bothered. So I’d cry and fuss in order for my parents to  _ please _ get me checked out. I’d already ended one life too early due to missing an illness, call me paranoid or histrionic but something was definitely going on and I had no way of knowing  _ what _ . 

 

My mother dutifully took me to several doctors appointments where I was poked and prodded and ultimately sent home. Which was nice and all, but didn’t solve the issue that was only getting worse as I got older. I could barely sleep anymore, the buzzing like a thundering, burning second heartbeat shuddering through my body. 

 

Finally, my mom took me to what I would later learn was a non-civilian hospital. 

She placed me on the examination table, the thin paper crackling loudly beneath me. The doctor spoke to her  for a time, their incomprehensible words a droning murmur in the background. When they were done speaking my mother smiled tiredly at me, bags under her eyes stark against her pale skin. She was still rather blurry, but I didn’t need to see her clearly to know she was both sleep deprived and concerned. I burbled happily as she adjusted my knitted cap, trying to ease her worry in the only way I could. I didn’t  _ want _ to be such a troublesome newborn, particularly to first-time parents who cared a great deal about me, but there clearly was an issue that needed resolving. 

 

The doctor said something and stepped forwards, taking my mother’s place beside me. I focused all my baleful attention on the man, silently trying to impress the importance of a thorough examination through subliminal messaging (or something). To my revulsion he didn’t reach for any gloves, instead stretching his hand out over me and -probably?- closing his eyes in concentration. My heart sank at the thought that my parents had grown so desperate as to bring me to some kind of spirit or supposed magic healer. I was so upset that I nearly missed it: the same prickling sensation coming from him. It was like gaining a second layer of spatial awareness, so utterly baffling that when his goddamn hand started to glow it barely registered on my  _ what the fuck _ radar. 

I lied utterly, utterly still for long moment, watching the glowing green hand pass over me from head to toe before screeching out what was probably sounded like a fiendish caterwaul. I flailed my useless pudgy fists towards the hand hovering above me, successfully knocking into it a few times, but the general lack of coordination inherent in babies meant I didn’t get much further than that. 

 

(It’s a daily miracle I don’t sock myself in the eye).

 

There’s some kind of correlation between the magic shining hand and myself, and this was the first hint I’d received. I didn’t have the faintest idea what the hell correlated with  _ glowing green hands _ beyond  _ magic _ but here I was reincarnated as a baby. It’s safe to assume my understanding of the universe is fundamentally lacking. 

 

I… eyed that second sense. Fighting the limitations of my infantile form and the whole “I feel something on you without seeing, hearing, or touching you” thing. I mostly… felt?… sensed? the buzzing from the doctor’s hand, though it seemed to filter down from up his arm, operating at nearly the same pattern or frequency as the burning sensation within me. The doctor and I eyed each other speculatively for a long moment, before he cut whatever was producing the magic light thing and took a step back. 

 

The doctor’s visit was pretty uneventful after that. He said a few short words to my mother, who’s vaguely discernable shape seemed to slump over in grief or relief -impossible to say from this distance- and we were bid adieu. Mother picked me right back up, righted by knitted cap and we were on our way. 

Her hands were clammy where they rested against my neck, and I hoped it was leftover nervousness, not a sign to be worried. 

 

———

 

Teething’s a bitch.

I gum at a rubber toy mulishly as I watch my dad fold laundry, steadfastly ignoring the drool dripping down my own chin. 

Colour has started to develop, which is nice, if… weird. I watch sullenly as my dad puts down a neatly folded shirt and tucks a chin length strand of  _ electric blue _ hair behind his ear. I’ve never seen hair quite so  _ blue _ before. Not in this life or the previous. It’s not dye, unless the guy has a method for dyeing his  _ eyelashes _ . 

So, no cool-rocker or chill-hippie dad (presumably), just… weird-hair dad. 

Who so happened to pass on his weird-hair genes to me, if my reflection in the little bauble I’m currently chewing on is anything to go by. I’ll never need to spend a dime on hair dye if I hit that rebellious teenage stage again. I grimace at the memory and firmly wipe my chin clean on my arm. My father tsks from across the room and steps over to clean my face with quite possibly the scratchiest cloth we own. 

 

———-

 

The realization of where I am doesn’t hit until what is most likely several months after my rebirth. 

 

I’m desperately trying to work my way from standing to walking when my mom returns home from wherever she left. I glance over my shoulder as I hear the keys in the lock and the door open up, my mom’s brown hair barely visible from my angle, but what I do see stops me short. 

 

_ Is that a Naruto headband.  _

 

I wasn’t exactly an avid Naruto fan in my previous life, having read the manga in junior high and not much beyond that, but even I can identify a freaking  _ ninja headband _ when I see one. 

I let out an intelligent “buh” as I continue my stupefied staring, watching as my mom walks around the couch and into the living room. She’s wearing what essentially looks like a black tracksuit and a stiff looking green vest, weapon holsters strapped to her legs with far too much bandaging that is normal. Her fluffy pink slippers look ridiculously out of place. 

 

_ This is either the most dedicated cosplayer I have ever met, or there’s something else going on _ I thought, taking in the wear and tear here and there on the uniform. There was road dust coating the bandages wrapped around her legs, scuff marks on the muted green of the vest. This implied a level of accuracy that bordered on frightening or… something... else….

Mom beamed at me, reaching down and hoisting me up onto her hip with a delighted “Hello Hisui! How’s my darling today?”

“Buh” I answered, clearly conveying my utter confusion with the situation.

There’s no way this is actually the Naruto-verse.

 

———-

 

Oh god it’s actually the Naruto-verse. 

I stare dumbly at the fucking  _ Hokage Monument _ , just looming there like it isn't shattering my current world-view. There are only the first three Hokage present on the mural, which gives me an  _ approximate _ timeline of  _ when _ I am but not much beyond that. 

 

What the  _ fuck _ .

 

The Naruto-verse?? Seriously?! 

Glowing green hands and reincarnation probably should have clued me into  _ something _ but what kind of sense does this make?!

 

It doesn’t come as much of a surprise that my new body can’t handle the rush of emotion coursing through me. I dissolve into ugly tears. My mother shushes me gently before turning around and returning home. 


	3. A path is laid out ahead, it forks before your feet. A decision filled with dread, uncertain of what you’ll meet

I eye my parents from my spot on the floor, my toys spread out in a wide arc around me. Mother (who’s name I  _ think _ is Ren) and Father (who’s name I’m pretty sure is Satoru) are both sitting on the only couch we own -a ratty old thing in a hideous puce colour with a rather significant coffee stain on one armrest- watching me intently with big beaming smiles. 

Father looks like his typical violently blue self, his amber eyes half-shut and mouth in a pleased -if tired- smile. He’s wearing a rather plain grey sweater -an off the shoulder knitted monstrosity that’s soft enough it’s itchyness can be excused- over a skin tight black fabric (maybe a cotton/spandex blend?) that exposes his shoulders and whose collar is high enough to nearly reach his jawbone. He paired the shirt(s?) with darker grey sweats that are baggy enough to resemble harem pants, cut in such a way as to leave a significant stretch of his calf exposed. His skin is a deep golden brown tan and his wavy hair is tied up in a man-bun/top-knot fusion. He holds a steaming mug of tea between his laced fingers, the chipped label long past the point of legibility. Beneath it all, I can detect the faintest hint of that Other Sense- a perception that feels like watching a rainstorm from a twenty storey building. The sharp scent of petrichor and the whistling of the wind. 

Mother hasn’t changed from her… well I suppose calling it a uniform is accurate. She wears her forehead-protector in its designated location. Her hair is a deep hazelnut and is straight -if falling out of the braid she had it tied in this morning. The elastic she used is barely holding on, the pink cord stretched to near uselessness. She has a small beauty mark beneath her right eye and has cheekbones that I sincerely hope I’ll inherit. Her eyes are a shade lighter than her hair and she has a small silvery scar that's barely perceptible on the corner of her pointed chin. She has a peeling bandaid on her right index finger and her hands are rough and littered with scars; some new, some old enough to have nearly faded away. I can barely detect anything with my Other Sense for my mother, largely catching the fresh scent of a small body of water, feeling the stillness therein. It is comforting and familiar. 

I haven’t really taken the time to really  _ study _ my parents until this point. By the time my vision had developed enough to distinguish a foot from a face I had gotten so used to my parent’s continued presence that there wasn’t much cause to. 

Granted, that was before I found out I was in the world of Naruto (and boy do I feel silly for missing so many sings).

I now know what that sensation I had misattributed as magic is: Chakra. 

Now didn’t that feel weird saying.

At this point calling chakra magic and magic chakra wasn’t fundamentally that weird. I had already had that earth shattering revelation and dealt with it as much as I could. Labelling it one way or the other didn’t really matter. 

However, knowing I was in the Naruto-verse was not quite the same thing. 

For one thing, knowing  _ when _ I am really changes the game. I know I’m sometime after the Third Hokage comes to power, which honestly leaves a big window in time… and three world wars that I could land myself in. 

Now that’s a sobering thought. 

I twist over and reach for the coffee table, using it to leverage myself into a standing position. My mother coos excitedly as I glance over, eventually releasing my grip on the chipped wood and making my way towards my parents with unsteady steps. I have to essentially goose-step to manage any distance of worth and I giggle -somewhat hysterically given the situation- imagining what I must look like. 

Ren scoops me up once I get close enough, placing me squarely between my father and herself. She blows a raspberry against my cheek and smooths my hair back a moment later. My father says something I’m fairly confident is about me taking my first steps (which… oops… I hadn’t even realized that those were my first steps in front of them). His tone of voice is more worried than not, however, and my mother’s mood sombers immediately. 

 

I desperately hope that their grave silence isn’t a sign of the times, but I’m doubtful.

In a world where children are pushed onto the battlefield as soon as they can effectively wield weapons, why else would a parent react to their child’s first steps with anything other than solemnity.

 

I have a choice to make and not enough information with which to make it. 

Regardless of  _ when _ in the timeline I am war will be finding me. There might be a war going on _ right now _ for all I know. We’re early enough in the timeline that I  _ know _ that Konoha will be seeing some major battles: the Nine-tails attack, Orochimaru’s invasion, Pein’s attack, and the Fourth Shinobi World War.

But I could be early enough in the timeline that I might be seeing the First, Second, and Third Shinobi World Wars as well. 

So my choices were as thus:

  1. Become a civilian and get the hell out of Konoha. The flaw with becoming a civilian is that the countryside wasn’t really any safer than Konoha itself. The citizens of Ame were caught in a battleground if I remember correctly, and while the Land of Fire might be better… it still wouldn’t be good, and I’d have no idea how to defend myself should a situation arise that would require me to do so. Would I even be allowed to leave? I hadn’t gone to the Academy, wasn’t registered and tagged, but I didn’t know how big Konoha was about its military dictatorship. Was it mandatory for those born in Konoha to try for the Academy? 



or...

  1. Become a ninja and learn to fight. Learning how to use _chakra_ and do some sick flips would be cool as hell, if you ignore the whole _contract killers/child soldiers/FIGHTING IN A WAR_ kind of thing. Being expected to fight and kill as a child is fundamentally _fucked up_. I don’t care that Naruto was able to persuade everyone to agree with him with an inspiring speech and a punch thrown here and there: there is no way I have that level of mind-control-charisma. Ninja are mercenaries, plain and simple. They belong to the Daimyo, are subservient to the Hokage, and must serve the village first and foremost. Rogues are _hunted down_ like animals. I didn’t want to become that sort of creature, a weapon to be aimed. But, not all ninja are warriors or even front-line fighters. There are some that stay in-village and never seen combat, performing mundane or clerical tasks. Knowing enough to keep myself _alive_ would be necessary with all the chaos to come. 



I don’t know what option to take, but my innate… well I suppose it’s a chakra sense isn’t it? Implies a level of chakra capabilities, skewing my future in favour of option b. On top of it all, I  _ like _ my new parents. Ren’s a Konoha Shinobi, her loyalty as blatant as the leaf symbol on her headband. Satoru… well I’m not too sure what he does because he’s mostly been with me every day, but I’m sure he wouldn’t leave mom behind either. I wouldn’t want to leave them behind and hurt them in such a way, or force them to take up the life of a missing-nin. That was no way to live. 

As it is, I can’t make a final decision. I’m not old enough for the matter to be an immediate concern. But a problem has been made abundantly clear: I need more information. 

For that, I’ll need to learn how to read. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god the Naruto timeline is a mess.  
> For future reference I'm going to be going off said timeline as much as I can, but as some of it is guesswork I've come to my own conclusions and will be using said conclusions for the rest of the story.


	4. Snow is a strange white word. No ice or frost has asked of bud or bird for Winter's cost

‘Hisui Arashi’ stares up at me from the sheet of paper, the ink stark and only a little sloppy. I feel pretty proud of myself, all things considered. Dad looks pretty proud too from where he’s leaning over my shoulder, holding his sharp chin between his thumb and forefinger. He points to the _hi_ character and I hastily add the line I was missing. Satoru nods in approval before reaching for his ink brush and sketching out a quick symbol in a series of small and smooth strokes. When he’s done he stares at me intently for a bit, his amber eyes intense, before saying “father” in an utterly serious tone of voice.

He seems pretty focused for teaching a _baby_ how to write.

I almost respond “no, I _am_ your father” in the same serious tone before realizing that the Star Wars joke would fall completely flat. Instead, I study the character for a bit and commit it to memory. Satoru then removed his paper from my sight and returns my practice sheet to pride of place. I hastily drag my brush against the ink stone and get to work. When I’m done I frown at the results; I used too much ink and the calligraphy is messy, splotchy and runny, already it’s seeping through the cheap paper. My father doesn’t even have to say anything as I clean my brush and make a second attempt, he only hums in approval. It didn’t take me long after learning how to write my name to realize my new dad’s really anal about calligraphy, putting my previous life’s third grade cursive instructor to shame.

This attempt comes out far cleaner, and I eye it critically before showing it to Satoru. He regards the paper with scrutiny before his serious mien breaks into a bright grin. He ruffles my bright blue/green hair and laughs.

“Excellent work Hi-chan!” He chirrups, drawing me into a tight hug. I preen under the praise and hum happily, burrowing my face against his frumpy sweater. It really is quite ugly but incredibly comfortable.

From the little kitchenette I can hear mom set something down and move closer until she’s standing over the edge of the couch. She stares down at the two of us, her eyes filled with affection and her smile incredibly gentle. She bends down to kiss my father on the cheek and ruffles my hair into a wild riot of curls. I can’t help but laugh, warmth suffusing me from this small but sweet familial moment.

“Oh! That’s beautiful writing Hi-chan!” my mother exclaims in a sugar sweet tone “but what’s this? You wrote your name and father’s name, but no ‘mother’? Ah, Hi-chan I’m so lonely, whatever will I do?”

I can’t really understand everything she just said but I think I can guess at most of it. Dutifully I look to my dad for him to lead by example. Satoru chuckles but elegantly lays out the characters for the word ‘mother’, which I copy promptly onto the paper (being cautious with the ink this time). I gather the paper up -only wrinkling it a little- before presenting it to mom for her approval. She takes the paper and -heedless of the wet ink- leans back down to kiss my cheek, squishing my face in her enthusiasm. “Why thank you Hi-chan! Mother will treasure it always!”

 

———-

 

Satoru gratefully accepts the mug of tea I give him, scooting over carefully to make room on our small two seater couch. The two of us sit in comfortable silence as we watch our daughter work away at the primer we’ve given her. She’s barely tall enough to write at the coffee table.

I frown, glancing over my shoulder to stare at the fridge. There, pinned to the mustard yellow door with a faded Yakiniku Q magnet rests the paper with Hisui’s first attempts at writing.

“Writing before she’s even said her first words…” Satoru says, voicing my thoughts exactly. My fingers clench around my mug for the barest second before I relax my grip. I keep facing the fridge, eyes fixed on the kanji spelling out my daughter’s name.

“with what the doctor said… Ren-”

“I know” I manage to say, voice thick. I smile tremulously “she’s something special. A genius, maybe. A sensor, certainly.”

I should be proud. The doctor said as much. But with the world the way it is…

Satoru’s hand dances over my knuckles with a featherlight touch. I wordlessly thread our fingers together and hold on tight.

“Hokage-sama has assigned me to the team headed for Kagēro village” I say, my words flat and cold, falling heavy and final between us “we will be leaving in two weeks.”

Satoru is utterly silent beside me. He does not breathe.

“This will lead to war” he whispers, quiet and _terrified_ “I’m certain of it”.

I can only nod and hold onto him all the tighter, offering what little comfort I can.

I look back over my shoulder to meet the eyes of my partner and instead meet the eyes of my daughter.

She’s watching intently with too bright eyes. A shiver runs down my spine.

 _A genius, maybe_.

How much has she understood?


	5. I feel the spring far off, far off, the faint, far scent of bud and leaf— Oh, how can spring take heart to come to a world in grief, deep grief?

Mom leaves and the house is far quieter without her.

Dad doesn’t talk as much, seemingly withdrawing into himself. He looks tall and frail, like he’s being stretched all the thinner for the distance between him and mom. He’s a bit more affectionate, reaching for wordless hugs without prompting on my part.

That feeling of expectation continues to emanate from him, a continuous sensation like standing over the edge of a great precipice.

 

I find myself missing my mom quite a lot.

 

———-

 

The apartment we share is small -barely a one bedroom- but it seems larger without mom there.

 

I’ve never had my own bed, and my poor parents have had to co-sleep with me nestled between them the entire time. I don’t know if its because they aren’t financially well off or if its a cultural thing, but I’ve never had a crib.

Waking up with only one pair of arms keeping me warm and safe when I’m used to two is a surprisingly sad thing. Especially since I didn’t really understand _why_ mom left, or how long she’d been gone. I can assume she’s out doing ninja things but that could mean pretty much anything.

 

Father tucks me in every night, wrestling me into some sort of jumper that I do _not_ want to be in (Its like sleeping in socks. I don’t like sleeping in socks. I’ve never liked sleeping in socks. Have I mentioned how much I hate sleeping in socks?). Once we’re both lying down he’ll rub gentle circles on my back and start singing me to sleep. It usually works, because his voice is soft and soothingly sweet, but every once in awhile I’ll manage to resist. On those nights I’ll wait until my dad’s eyes close, his breathing eases, and his chakra settles. Once that happens I pull the blankets over my head and start focusing on my own chakra. Manipulating it is tricky. I know it’s _there_ , but actually getting it to _do_ something seems to be the tricky part. So far, I’ve managed to get my hands to start glowing on command, and I’ve gotten them to stick to the covers without any destruction of note. I haven’t been able to project chakra down to my feet as of yet, I simply seem to run out before it can quite manage to get there. The chakra pathways there feel thinner and weaker than they do in my hands and arms so I’m willing to bet that I won’t be able to mess with those too much until they’ve developed a bit more. I don’t know if my Dad’s noticed my lighting up like a christmas tree, but given the fact that he’s literally right next to me when I practice I’m pretty sure he has.

Not that he’s done anything to encourage or discourage me.

 

———-

 

At some point during the weeks mom’s been gone there’s a knock on the door. My dad’s chakra immediately spikes with _fear._ The feeling is so strong and shocking that I drop the post-it notes I was using to label everything within chakra assisted reach, spilling the bright yellow pages across the scuffed linoleum.

Satoru doesn’t answer the door immediately, instead walking with aching slowness around the living room. He pauses once he wraps a hand around the door knob, taking a couple deep gulping breaths before he opens the door just slightly.

I don’t recognize the person on the other side -which isn’t saying much as my existence up and to this point has been incredibly isolated- he’s rather pretty with incredibly long blonde pulled back into a high tail, his Konoha headband front and centre on his forehead. His uniform is the same as what I’ve seen my mum wear, which gives me absolutely no information. He smiles when he sees my dad, though Satoru’s chakra shifts uneasily at the stranger’s presence.

“Satoru-san! It’s been quite a while!” Says the stranger, smiling amiably, eyes crinkling shut.

“... Inota-san. Hello” I hear my father respond in a somewhat vacant manner. I squat down and start picking up the yellow flood I accidentally unleashed, chubby fat fingers barely adequate at the task. There’s a long drawn out silence as I continue cleaning up, and I turn around so I don’t have to face the awkwardness. I haven’t the faintest clue what’s going on here.

 

“Ah, Satoru-san? Won’t you invite me inside?” There’s a sort of scrambling noise and I’m pretty sure my dad trips over some shoes in the entryway. Inota thanks my father cheerfully and enters our humble abode.

“Ah!” Exclaims Inota rather excitedly given the circumstances “is that your daughter, Satoru-san? My! She has gotten big!”

_Oh aye Moira, yer spot on am oan the protein_ I think, rather uncharitably, sticking a post-it with the word “floor” on the top of my growing stack.

Hmm, on second thought that one probably does actually belong on the floor. I smack the paper back down and smooth it out crisply. Inota laughs while straightening his shoes at the front entrance, beaming happily. I eye him up and down, taking in the man’s rather odd appearance. His blonde hair stands out quite a bit in what I’ve seen of earth-toned Konoha; granted it has nothing on vibrant eye searing blue, but it’s rather noteworthy nonetheless. He seems a cheery enough sort so I’ll hold off further judgement.

For now.

Father leads Inota into the living room and then ambles in a sort of hurried fashion to the kitchen. I have to waddle out of the way, frowning as he disregards the “kettle” post-it, brushing it off onto the countertop. Father has been locating all the incorrectly spelled and/or placed papers and returning them to me (corrected of course) for further learning. It’s unlike him to simply brush aside anything pertaining to my writing education.

A little miffed (Im not even a year old I’m allowed to be petty if I want to be) I edge my way into the living room, watching as Inota settles himself against the couch and smiles winningly at me. I wave back half heartedly, a little thrown at the sudden change in my routine.

 

“Hello! My name is Yamanaka Inota!” Said ninja states loudly, his creepy _pupil-less eyes_ staring into mine “It is a pleasure to meet you!” He finished with a sort-of bow from the couch.

 

Damn.

 

A Yamanaka.

 

I kind of forgot about those.

Logically, I know that there’s no reason for me to worry, as a Yamanaka has no reason to suspect me -a baby- of anything. There’s absolutely no reason for one to attempt to mind meld with me. Still, this is pretty much the first stranger I’ve ever met and I’m still wrapping my head around this whole Naruto thing. I don’t _actually_ know how willing the average Yamanaka is to throw around their signature technique. I don’t even know if I’d actually notice. I just know that there’s some weird -not to mention plot relevant- information bouncing around in my head and I can’t have strangers jumping in on that.

I stuff one of my many post-its into my mouth, destroying all evidence of my writing prowess and giving me ample excuse to go non-verbal.

Sleath? _Nailed it._

I’m practically an undercover agent.

Inota’s face goes a through a comical combination of amused/distressed as he seems to deliberate between propriety and rescuing the poor note from its drooly doom.

Fortunately for Inota and unfortunately for the post-it, dad comes back into the living room bearing gifts of tea. Inota accepts the beverage with palaple relief, making room for dad on the couch. Satoru sits down and the two drink the too-hot tea in perfect synchronicity, meanwhile, I move off to the other side of the coffee table to _subtly_ observe, grabbing a rubber fish toy on my way. The fish joins the note in its drooly fate as I plop myself down to listen.

Like the conversation between mom and dad a couple weeks ago I doubt I’ll understand all of what’s going on in this discussion. But, you never know right? I might get lucky.

 

————-

 

Inota and my father don’t talk for very long, and once again I’m left in the dust for the majority of what is being said. I can pick up bits a pieces but without some key words the sentences just don’t make sense. There’s some words that just aren’t mentioned to a baby. A baby doesn’t need to know about war, or what year it is. So I’m stuck with my own interpretation of their discussion.

Throughout the discussion Inota remained visibly smiling, if rather intense. It was a little hard to gage exactly how focused he was due to the lack of pupils (which, y’know, you’d think you’d notice a lot faster than I did but my current height problem means that I’m usually staring up everyone’s nose, not making long and meaningful eye contact). From what I can tell my Dad remained polite throughout the conversation but was stressed the entire time, avoiding eye contact and gripping his teacup tightly.

At the end of the conversation Inota clapped my dad quite soundly on the shoulder and with a few cheery parting words made his way to the door and let himself out.

Dad remained seated.

I pad over hesitantly, looking at his vacant expression before placing the “Dad” post-it I’d been saving on his knee. Dad stares at the note and the note continues to present the world with it’s cheery yellow colour. A long meaningful second passes before Satoru sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He stays in this position for a while longer as I wordlessly stand beside him, fiddling with the adhesive strips on the post-its.

“It seems I have to make a decision now, don’t I?” He says, one amber eye fixed on me.

I don’t really know what on earth he’s talking about so I nod a couple times.

Satoru pauses before he suddenly picks me up and hugs me tight. It takes a second but I eventually wrap my baby arms around his neck and hug him back, humming softly.

“I pray I make the right one” he whispers against the back of my head.

I hug him all the tighter.

 

———-

 

I stare up at the brightly painted “Konoha Facility of Childcare” sign with as much incredulous distaste as my child body can project. Behind me, my dad is already walking home, mournful goodbyes already complete.

If I had known the guy was debating putting me in _daycare_ I probably wouldn’t have given him a hug the other day. Probably would have puked on him or something.

I eye the caregiver suspiciously from my perch in her arms. She seems nice enough so I permit her to carry me into the childcare facility. Despite the indignity of my current predicament it wouldn’t do to make a scene.

Yet, anyways.

I stare at Satoru’s retreating back as the caregiver carries me away, the bright blue speck that is our mutual hair colour gradually growing smaller and smaller with the distance put between us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I promise we'll be getting to more of the canon characters soon.


	6. To be a part of a family like mine is so divine where love is shown hurt is shared our love for each other is never impaired

The woman’s name is Fujita Yoshiko. She’s plump and rosy-cheeked, with a cherry pink komon and a bun of brown hair that only just starting to go grey. Yoshiko is nice enough, always bustling about with an apron around her waist. Nothing seems to be able to frazzle her and though she is kind, she is quite stern. 

 

The Konoha Facility of Childcare -or KFC as I’ll gleefully start calling it- has white painted walls and red roof tiles. It’s surrounded by a small grassy lot and a meagre fence. It’s function is to provide care to the children of ninja who are on missions . The main clientele of KFC are generally clanless shinobi or those who don’t have any available family to take care of their children. The patrons range from newborns to age 5, and though KFC isn’t an orphanage, extended stays aren’t beyond the realm of possibility. KFC has 3-30 children during the day shift. To accommodate this number of young children Yoshiko has three assistants: her daughter Fujita Emiko, a genin corps medic by the name of Yamashita Kazumi, and an older civilian man by the name of Ikeda Yasu. On top of the assistants, Yoshiko sometimes contracts out to genin teams, though this is not a regular occurence. 

 

At least, that’s what I’ve managed to learn during my time here, watching as the adults go about their day from my vantage point on the gummy lemon scented floor. 

 

Beside me, licking up red bean paste from her fingertips, is my hint to the current timeline. Kurenai Yuhi -newly two- munches happily on her birthday taiyaki, utterly oblivious to how she’s flipped my world upside down. 

Not that any of this is  _ normal _ , exactly, but I’d sort of grown comfortable with the future being this far off nebulous thing. Kurenai being here  _ now _ at this age confirms that I’ll be confronted with a minimum of two wars, possibly three if I live that long. 

It’s a sobering thought.

I mush what can vaguely be considered food -if the paste of suspicious colouration and absolutely no flavour can be called such- around my bowl with a bite-mark riddled spoon as I contemplate this development. 

By and large it seems that my options have narrowed down to becoming a Ninja. I could still  _ try _ and desert the home country, but the third shinobi world war was a mess if I remember correctly. 

But it wouldn’t do to just become a Ninja. 

I had to become a strong Ninja, but more importantly, a smart one. 

Everyone was being sent to the front lines for the third ninja world war. Even children fresh out of graduation. It wouldn’t  _ matter _ if I was a paper ninja or not, I wouldn’t have the chance to move in that direction. I’d just be canon fodder unless I developed the skills necessary to survive in a battle ground. 

 

\----------------

 

I messily chew on some strawberry quarters -a gift my dad got me when he seemingly picked up on my somber mood- and watch as said parental figure leans over a messy sprawl of scrolls on the kitchen table. His fingers are well and truly ink stained, and his eyes have dark bags underneath them. 

Frankly, he looks like shit. 

With a grunt of effort I push my strawberry saucer closer to him, hoping he’ll take the offering. He looks up at the sound and whether it is the justifiable fear of baby drool or something else, he refuses to partake. He does smile however, which is nice -if not exactly a victory.

 

\----------------

 

I wake up bright and early the following day filled with new conviction. 

I need to become a ninja. Tearing myself up over the decision won’t do me any good. I simply need to commit, and what better time than now?

 

In the following weeks I continue waking at the crack of dawn and immediately set out to a baby version of fitness training. I walk around in order to improve my walking stamina, practice picking things up and tossing them to improve my hand eye coordination, practice hauling myself up any surface to improve my strength and then practice reading and writing. The physical activity is intersected by several naps and lots of food. Though my dad seems rather worried he doesn’t do anything to stop me beyond gently removing me from some of the higher cabinets. Mrs Fujita keeps an assessing eye on my efforts, and despite all of Miss Yamashita’s fretting, she does nothing to intervene. Mr Ikeda is a little confused by what appears to be one terribly driven baby, but the daycare’s matron is by and large approving of my prolictivities. 

 

I’m tossing a wooden block at a knot on the singular tree on the property when Kurenai sidles up next to me. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes bright with excitement. Clutched in both hands is a wooden block similar to mine. We kind of stare at each other for a moment before she firms her grip on the block and tosses it at the tree with a fair amount of enthusiasm. She giggles when it impacts the bark and I’m reluctantly impressed. Though neither of us are standing more than 3 feet away from the tree it’s still a decent shot. 

 

“Hi!” Kurenai chirrups before running off to go collect her toy. I watch, utterly bemused, as she goes and picks my block up too. She eventually scampers back to me as fast as her stubby legs will go and proudly returns my block to me. I pick it up, thumbing the smooth sides. 

“...hi” I mumble, hesitant. I can’t hear any noticeable accent, but beyond being a  _ baby _ my voice is actually a lot higher than I expected. 

The other girl absolutely  _ beams _ and then proceeds to lob the toy as hard as she can towards the tree. She misses quite spectacularly this time, but almost manages to clear the fence. 

I shake my head and continue tossing the block… with company now, I suppose. 

 

———

 

“Ah, Arashi-san! It’s good to see you” Mrs Fujita says while burping a fussing baby, smiling warmly up at my dad. My dad, for his part, smiles back is a blankly congenial way, the bags under his eyes darker than usual. His hair looks like he hasn’t washed it in the last day or so. 

“Hisui-chan had a rather exciting day today! Why, she made her first friend and said her first word all in one go!” 

My dad blinks the exhaustion back and then gives the matron a genuine smile before turning twinkling eyes to me. 

“Oh? Well I’m sorry I missed it. What did you say, little bird?” 

I shift from foot to foot but obligingly answer with a whispered “hi”. 

I wasn’t aware that Mrs Fujita had caught any of my interactions with Kurenai. My suspicions that the woman had some sort of ninja training at some point continue to seem more and more likely. I’ll have to keep an eye out for her. 

 

My father smiles softly, positively radiating joy, before bending down and picking me up, humming happily. 

“That’s very good, little bird. I’m very proud of you” 

Despite my misgivings at being caught talking this early in the game… story? I couldn’t help the smile that slowly formed on my face, so I hid by pressing myself into my dad’s soft grey sweater. Mrs Fujita laughed merrily with a “she must be shy!” before my Dad pulled us both away and headed on home. 

———-

 

Mom comes back the following day. 

 

I wouldn’t have noticed normally. It was early enough neither Satoru or myself were entertaining the notion of being awake yet, and Ren’s always ghosted around the house on silent feet. 

What I do feel is a familiar sense of fresh water, sunbaked stone. I’m snuffling awake before I even realize  _ why _ , glancing about in confusion. I freeze when I see a dark form lingering in the doorway, heart stopping for a beat and then immediately setting itself to hammering. My infant body immediately hiccups on a fearful inhalation. Without missing a beat Satoru lifts a hand to rub a comforting circle on my back. The question of “what’s wrong” doesn’t even finish passing his lips before he’s jerking awake, hand diving beneath the pillow and launching a handful of senbon before I even realize what’s going on. 

There’s a hurried “oh shit” before the door  _ slams _ shut, the needles from Freddy Krueger’s nightmares  _ cutting clean through the door _ and into the hallway beyond. 

 

There’s a moment’s pause, but after a few heartbeats a sheepish “Satoru? It’s me. Ren. I-I’m home” sounds through the door. Dad still holds himself utterly utterly still, but it  _ feels _ more like shock. The breath before a fall. 

And then suddenly he’s the storm. Chaotic purpose as he springs from the bed and bounds across the room. He pulls the door open with desperation and mom drops from her Spider-Man position on the ceiling, folding out and falling into his arms. 

Satoru holds onto her like a man drowning, like she’ll vanish from his arms if he doesn’t hold her as tightly as possible. Ren, for her part clutches back just as fervently. 

I look away, feeling like I’m intruding on something private. I fix my gaze instead on the battered door, noting the three distinct puncture wounds it now sports -which, wow, didn’t realize dad had giant fucking  _ needles under the pillow this whole time  _ and boy oh boy they can apparently go clean through solid wood like it’s not even there? Fan-tastic. Those ninja goals are looking less and less achievable by the second. 

 

———

 

Come morning things are far more civilized. 

Dad wakes up bright and early and immediately starts setting out to make breakfast. 

I wake up because this is usually the time that I start getting ready for daycare. 

Mom, on the other hand, is sleeping like the dead. In the morning light it’s easy to see how tired she looks. She’s got some new scars here and there, a bandage taped on her forehead and one shoddily wrapped around her arm. My first aid training from my prior life is absolutely screaming at me about infections and sanitation. She’s laying utterly relaxed in her bed, hair a total snarl and arms curled around her head like some sort of insect. 

 

Dad cooks us all our own individual plates of omurice, probably mom’s preference because we’ve largely been eating rice and salted fish while she’s been gone. He puts it on a tray we have lying around and pours a glass of coffee into mom’s favourite mug, giving me a smaller plastic cup of milk. Dad has me wait beyond the entry way when he wakes Ren up, gently calling out to her and not touching her. Ren wakes by going utterly silent, her sleep sounds cutting off before she exhales in a long gust, smacking her lips as she turns over. Satoru stares at her for a few beats longer before his chakra relaxes and he places the tray on my mother’s lap with a small flourish. I make my way into the room, deeming it safe, and Dad helps me onto the bed, placing my plate and plastic spoon in front of me. There’s no way the rice won’t end up all over the bed sheets by the end of this but… well….

It’s nice. 

It’s nice having us all eat together after months of being apart. It’s nice eating breakfast in bed as the sunlight filter in. Mom could be anyone in this light, not a hired killer. Dad looks far less tired, less stressed. 

It’s soft and warm, and when Dad laughs it’s just right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this chapter took so long to write! I kept rewriting it and then life rolled into me with all the grace and delicacy of a freight train. 
> 
> But it’s out there and with the next chapter in the works, here’s hoping chapter 7 doesn’t take nearly as long!


	7. It wasn't always this way, I can recall there was a time... We were all together and we were doing fine.

Satoru and I are curled up together on the bed, unwilling to part after my months long absence. 

Hisui dozes between the two of us, small snuffling breaths pressed against my clavicle. She occasionally rouses, cracking open a bright amber eye before making a contented sound and falling back asleep. 

 

When I left her eyes had still been baby-blue. 

 

“She’s gotten so big” I whisper, quiet for no other reason than to preserve this moment. Satoru hums his assent, carding fingers through the snarl that is my hair. 

 

“She said her first words when you were gone” he murmurs back, just as quiet. 

“Oh?” I ask, ignoring the sudden surge of sadness and  _ you weren’t there for your daughter’s first words what kind of motherareyou _ \- and instead focusing on the here and now. 

Satoru hums again in confirmation.

“Yes. She was talking with another girl at the Childcare facility. Just a few peeps, but she understands more than she lets on.” 

He pauses, fingers fiddling with a particularly stubborn knot, seemingly thinking over what he wants to say next. 

“Fujita-san recommended an early start to the academy.”

 

I find myself freezing, going totally and utterly still. 

 

The part of me that was raised within Konoha my entire life, that grew beneath the eyes of the Hokage Mountain, shrouded beneath the Hashirama trees is  _ proud _ . Proud that our daughter is being seen, is already becoming of  _ note _ . 

 

The other part of me remembers what used to be Kagēro village and wants to hide her away from the horrors of the ninja world. The horrors I’ve helped create. 

 

“It wouldn’t be for a few years yet” Satoru continues, jewel bright eyes watching me. He’s deceptively calm, whisper quiet, but I know that this must be killing him; the thought of sending our daughter off to be trained in the shinobi arts when we stand on the verge of war. A war I’ll have helped start. 

 

Satoru already fled one warmongering country. The only thing keeping him grounded in a Konoha that is proving itself little better is our daughter. 

 

He knows the life of a missing nin is not an easy one. It is not one he would ever subject Hisui to, not if he could help it. 

  
  
  


“I’m home now. We can pull her out of the childcare facility. Keep her abilities understated and unknown until she’s old enough to go to the Academy. It’s not too late.” 

When I turn my entreating eyes to Satoru I see that his face is a blank mask of acceptance. He hides his emotions well, but I’m better and know the signs. 

“That might not be possible” he says, somewhat haltingly. “The sensory department has contacted me to start drafting a large scale barrier, chakra absorbent, able to synchronize harmoniously with the detection barrier already in place... “ he pauses, collecting himself. 

 

I’m no seal master, but even I know that this is a tall order, it might very well be impossible. 

 

“... but Ren, if I manage it… If I manage to make this -they’ll grant me full citizenship.”

 

He’s intense when he says this, utterly focused on me. What he doesn’t need to say is how much he hates that our household is utterly dependent on my pay, that he can’t help relieve the burden, that it means I have to accept any and all missions, that I have to leave all the time to support the three of us, that he feels like he’s failed as a father. He hates how the villagers see us, unmarried (unable to be married), an outsider (a traitor) so visibly in their midst. 

 

He wants a better future for Hisui. For that, he’ll sacrifice anything. 

 

“I’ve been working on this every day… but I just don’t know enough to accomplish what they’re asking of me. No one has the resources here to help.”

 

“I need to go to Uzushiogakure.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

It doesn’t take long for Satoru to get an official dispensation. 

 

Typically he has to wait months before he’s able to get any sort of paperwork revised -let alone actually  _ accepted _ . But now that the Sensory Squad needs something from him they’re all too happy to send him on to Uzushio, a shiny Hokage-approved scroll on his hip. 

 

I try not to be too bitter about it. Konoha didn’t have to allow him entry into the village in the first place. 

 

Normally a venture to Uzushio would garner at least an escort, but none in Konoha would actually be fast enough not to be an impediment. So Satoru packs up all his drafts as well as any and all supplies he’ll need for the trip into a single sealing scroll. 

 

When he’s done packing he stares for a time at the three scrolls, resting innocuously on the kitchen table. 

I wait a beat before I go to him, Hisui cradled in my arms. His shoulders relax when I smooth my hand down them, letting loose a long exhale. 

“You’ll be fine” I promise “Uzushio is our ally. You’ll be moving through Hi no Kuni the entire time. We’ll be here when you come home.”

 

His smile, when he does turn towards me, is subdued but sweet. The kiss that follows is even sweeter. 

“When I return…” he murmurs against my lips “... I’m going to marry you”

My chest feels tight and I can’t help the delighted laugh that spills forth. I hoist Hisui a little higher “A little late for a proposal, don’t you think?”

Satoru smiles, tucking my hair behind my ears and kissing me again. Hisui, for her part, begins to cry.

It's a little shocking, as she’s been remarkably well behaved, and I try to soothe her by bouncing her. She is having none of it. Instead, her crying turns into a full blown howl, her arms reaching for Satoru. He simply smiles sadly and kisses her brow, promising to be back soon. 

“No!” Hisui screams, the first time I hear her speak “No! Don’t go! No!”

This is painful to watch, and must be worse for Satoru, however, he does what must be done and collects the scrolls from the table and makes his way to the kitchen window. 

 

“Goodbye, I love you-” his voice breaks and he visibly has to reign himself in “-I love you both  _ so much _ . I’ll be back” Hisui continues to scream for all she’s worth and Satoru has to speak a bit louder to be heard over her “I’ll be back little bird. Daddy will be back, I promise. I love you”

 

“Say bye to Daddy” I say in the cheeriest tone I can manage, but Hisui continues to scream out a series of “No”s. She’s well past the point where she can simply be calmed down. 

 

With one last look over his shoulder Satoru fights the window open and slips all but one scroll into the satchels strapped around his legs. The last scroll -as blue as his hair- he readies before leaping with a twist into the air. There’s a surge of wind and Satoru is off, shooting well above the village on his guraidā. The gust rips Hisui’s paper notes from their moorings and sends them scattering to the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	8. Coppers, golds, and rusted tones, Mother Nature's way of letting go. They fall and gather one by one, Autumn is here, summer has gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are a changing

I’m two years old when the Second Ninja World War “formally” starts.

 

I only know because the Hokage made a village wide announcement. And I do mean village wide. People were positively crawling out of the woodwork to gather beneath the Hokage’s balcony as he made his grandiose speech.

Babies on the verge of toddlerhood weren’t an exception, apparently.

 

It was odd seeing the Hokage so young, devoid of crows feet and sporting a sharp brown goatee. Regardless of lifetime, however, the hat still looks ridiculous.

 

What followed was a long and drawn out declaration of war against Stone, that our enemy had gotten too greedy and too dangerous, that it was destroying village after village in order to encroach upon Fire’s borders.

 

The feeling of guilt had become familiar to me during my time at KFC - children born of ninjas were prone to snatching a toy or a treat here and there when they knew they shouldn’t- but it still came as a surprise when I could feel the same sickly churn off of my Mother. She held me all the tighter but outwardly remained the picture of serenity, silent as others around us cheered at the thought of repelling these foreign invaders.

 

I had grown jaded in my other life, over a war that claimed to be over morals, justice, and ethics but truly was one fought over oil. My country preached sanctimoniously about peace and yet in the same breath it ordered drone strikes against civilian settlements. I didn’t know the real reason why this war was starting, I couldn’t remember it having been mentioned in the story I had read so long ago now, but I didn’t trust it. I knew this was a prelude to the second ninja world war, that it would utterly ravage the smaller countries across the continent, and that Kiri would take the opportunity to destroy Whirlpool, where my dad had been working for the past few months.

 

I was terrified to say the least.

 

I knew logically that war was coming, but _here it was_.

 

A **_world war._ **

 

And the cheering souls around me hadn’t the faintest idea of what was to unfold.

  
  


—————

  


Our small apartment didn’t have a lot of room, nor did it have a backyard. The roof was generally used for airing out laundry by the various people living within the small complex, and we didn’t have a balcony.

As a result, any form of training Ren would undertake would need to be conducted outside, and the appropriate place to do so would be in the local training grounds. Ren was apparently savouring our time together and would bring me along to any and all excursions.

 

This is how I got to meet the Maito family.

 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

 

Training ground 8 is densely forested and as a result; remains dark and dreary year round, regardless of weather. It isn’t a popular spot to train. Due to the poor lighting conditions and tight space many traps and weapons have simply been left wherever they fell, their previous owners deeming the task of collecting them too strenuous and time consuming. This then had the adverse effect on the rest of the Leaf’s population, who saw fit to begin dumping all manners of trash and illicit contraband there as well.

Ren continued to use training ground 8 for two reasons: the first being that it bordered our low income district, the second being that it is typically free and as such she can usually get away with using it without making a formal request.

 

So it really was quite a shock when we stumbled into someone else while scoping out a good spot.

 

“Hello Hirai-san! What a surprise, running into you here!” A scruffy man wearing a skintight green jumpsuit and leg warmers exclaimed as mom leapt on a tree branch adjacent to a small clearing.

 

Mom and I blinked in synchronization.

 

“Maito-san, hello” my mother replied, calm as ever. Her chakra barely even fluctuated, which is really saying something because _Skin. Tight. Green. Spandex._

It practically _glowed_ in the dim light.

But no, rather, she seemed to warm -like sun shining on a pond.

Despite being rather flummoxed at this man’s appearance, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt based off of my mother’s reaction. She didn’t tend to react favourably to most people, saving her bubbly side for our small little family, so this really stood out.

“How are you?” My mother asked, jumping down so she was level with the man.

The man in question grinned brightly, pearly whites gleaming beneath his moustache, he then struck a pose - _a familiar_ pose- and said “I am most well this lovely morning Hirai-san! How about-”

 

Just as he was about to ask his question, he was interrupted by a small figure rushing into the clearing.

 

“Papa! Look! I found another one! Look!” cried an adorable toddler, dwarfed in a red neckerchief and holding a rusted kunai aloft.

 

“And so you did Gai!” Shouted the man in what could only be described as radiant elation “a most fantastic effort!”

 

Holy _FUCK_

 

_This is Gai Sensei._

 

A _mini_ Gai Sensei.

 

Mini Gai Sensei was fucking _adorable._ Pudgy in the way of toddlers, he looked a little bit older than me. His black hair wasn’t in its signature bowl shape, rather it was fanned out around his face in several shiny black wisps. He had a bit of a big nose and the cutest damn eyes and big rosy cheeks. He wore a forest green jumper with the _smallest_ cute little leg warmers.

He then struck a fusion dragon ball Z pose with the kunai and the man -who could only be Gai’s father- accepted it with equal aplomb. He then placed it on a fair sized mound of similarly rusty kunai.

 

Once the task was done the man ruffled Gai’s hair and turned to us “This must be little Hisui! It is a most joyous occasion to make your acquaintance! I am Maito Dai, and this is my son Maito Gai!”

Gai grinned and the duo struck a mutual pose, thumbs up and smiles set to blinding.

 

I began to wrest myself out of Ren’s grip and she set me down to the ground in a rather bemused fashion.

“Hello” I chirrup, voice still far too high. Mum seems pleased.

 

“Are you free to spar, Maito-san? I would love to test my skills against yours” my mother offers kindly. Maito Dai puffs out his chest.

“I would love to spar against a loyal special jounin of Konoha! Truly an excellent test of youth!” He proclaims jubilantly. Mother smiles kindly and pushes slightly on my shoulder “why don’t you go play with Gai-kun, Hi-chan?”

 

I don’t need to be told twice, and immediately rush closer as Ren and Dai step aside and begin talking about sparring rules.

 

Once I’m standing beside Gai I can easily tell he’s a bit older than me. He’s a couple inches taller, which is saying something as I’m still stuck as a total shrimp.

“Hi” I say for good measure.

“Your have blue hair!” Gai shouts out happily and proceeds to grab my arm, tugging me into the underbrush “Cmon! Let’s look for Kunai!”

 

And it seems that is that.

  


———-

  


I’m not sure if there’s such a thing as tetanus in this alien world filled with plant people and shark people and giant chakra entities, but I figure someone really should be cleaning out the forest regardless. I’ll just keep an eye out to make sure that neither of us gets a cut.

 

Between the the two of us, Gai and I manage to gather up a fair amount of kunai and shuriken, the small mound from earlier becoming more of a fair sized pile. We find some other bits and baubles, starting up a garbage pile on the side as well, stopping occasionally to watch our parents flash between the trees in a pure taijutsu match. It sounds like Dai is winning, though Ren isn’t making it easy for him.

The fun comes to an end when I pick up what looks like an intact exploding tag and bring it back to the clearing. Ren appears next to me in a swirl of leaves and smoothly pries the tag from my fingers.

 

“Perhaps we should postpone the match for another day, Maito-san” mother offers, face flushed from exertion.

“Of course, Hirai-san! Gai and I will look forward to such an event eagerly!”

Gai cheers happily, waving enthusiastically. Once I’m safely perched against my mom’s shoulder I shout “don’t forget to wash your hands!” and wave back with a fair amount of vigour.

 

Mom chuckles quietly and then we’re off, practically flying between the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading! I love hearing from all of you and positively loved all your comments on the last chapter. 
> 
> I’m still hoping to start churning chapters out faster than I have been, but my days off have been reduced quite significantly and I haven’t had a whole lot of free time. But here’s to being ever hopeful!


	9. Speak to me memory in the haze of dreams when life was lovely, and summers were long, hold on to your vision of yore till your life ends.

Ren and I see the Maito family quite often in the following weeks. I’m not sure if it’s a planned thing or just an unspoken coincidence, but every time Ren and I go to training ground 8 Dai is there with Gai and their customary beaming smiles.

 

Ren and Dai train in a various number of fashions, though it soon becomes evident that hand to hand combat is clearly Dai’s strength and something Ren is not the absolute best at. Ren seems to specialize in traps and genjutsu, but she rarely uses the later on Dai.

 

From what I can tell from my chakra sense -which isn’t exactly a precise science so much as a general feeling- is that both of their chakra systems feel off balance. It’s hard to describe, something not exactly translatable into words. It’s _there_ , I can tell that much but at the same time I can tell that the Maito family doesn’t quite give off the same elemental aura or feel as most people I encounter. If I remember the explanation from the Manga correctly then chakra is formed from mental and physical energy combined together. There’s some sort of… imbalance of the mental energy, or so I think. The sense I get off of the pair is similar, a purely physical impression. Like how it feels to run a marathon, not the exhaustion but just… the physicality of it.

It’s hard to explain.

 

Regardless, it’s quite clear that Dai is training Gai as best he can with what can only be considered a monumental handicap in this sort of world. The constant kunai fetching that the elder Maito has Gai doing increases his awareness of dangers in the area as well as it allows him to grow familiar with handling weaponry. Once the pile gets sizeable enough Dai sifts through the gathered weapons and shows Gai how to evaluate if it is any good, and then proceeds to teach him how to repair and maintain these weapons for future use. I pay close attention to these lessons. Dai is ridiculously pleased with my interest and goes so far as to purchase me my own whetstone, claiming it is always good to “fuel the flames of youth’s efforts”. Ren is somewhat embarrassed by the gift, claiming it is much too much. Dai waves off her concern good naturedly, but I can’t help agreeing with my mother. I don’t really know how much a whetstone costs but from the few shopping trips we’ve taken together I know that the general populace is none too fond of the Maito family and are perfectly willing to hike prices when it comes to them. It’s something I’ve noticed Ren and my dad deal with as well, though in less of an openly mocking manner, using cool derision instead.

 

Autumn chill has just started to set in and the leaves are well on their way to filling training ground 8 with reds and golds. Gai and I bumble about beneath the leaves, searching diligently for discarded weapons.

“Where’s your dad?” Gai asks, utterly out of the blue. The question immediately sours my mood, filling me with instantaneous dread. _I_ know the answer, that he’s working on something in _fucking_ Whirlpool and that Ren assures me he’s going to be back soon, he’s going to be back soon, he just needs to finish an important task for the village, for the Hokage, then everything will be better and won’t that be nice Hi-chan?

I can’t really tell a three year old that, however. And it’s not like Gai asked the question maliciously. Even now his cute little face is looking at me utterly earnestly, nose and cheeks rosy red in the chill.

“Gone” I reply, still somewhat terse regardless of my best efforts. I try to make up for it by taking out some of my spare Kleenex and wiping Gai’s nose for him. It’s a little gross but it’s also significantly grosser when a three year old gets snot all over his face. Gai remains obediently still under my ministrations, well accustomed to my eccentricities as soon as the weather took a turn for the worst. He doesn’t stop talking, however.

“What d’you mean gone? Where’d-” he honks into the Kleenex with all his might and I barely contain my wince “-he go?”

“Whirlpool” I answer, tossing the Kleenex into the underbrush. I’m pretty sure it’s biodegradable. I still feel a little guilty for littering.

Gai nods knowingly, big brows drawn down in a serious mien.

“My mama’s gone too” Gai says, kicking at a leaf, head tucked low.

I don’t know anything about Gai’s mother, never so much as heard her mentioned. Knowing Kishimoto’s writing though, one can only assume the poor woman was fridged. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I explain _that_ to a three year old, however.

 

“Ah” is what I say instead, my brilliant skills at conversation shining true.

 

“Th’villagers said- said it’s my fault Mama’s gone” Gai says, lower lip wobbling and -oh shit. I gather more Kleenex in my hands and start doing my best to stem the flood of tears that’s sure to start.

 

I can tell that Gai doesn’t understand why the villagers would say that, but that even he can tell that such a thing was not said in kindness.

Gai’s moved on from a wobbling lip and watery eyes to full-body sobs, shoulders shaking and fists rubbing furiously at his eyes. At a loss I pull Gai into a hug, resigning myself to getting tears and snot in my hair. Gai doesn’t reciprocate but eventually, after a few minutes of shushing and back rubbing, his tearful bellows transition into small hiccups and ruddy cheeks.

“Next time anyone says that Gai you gotta tell me, ok?” I say, mopping up the rear tracks left all over his face. Gai giggles wetly but nods. Good enough.

But seriously? Who the fuck is evil enough to tell a _toddler_ they’re the reason their mom is dead?!

I figure that if too much chakra applied to hand or foot can blast a tree’s bark apart then it can probably do a fair amount of damage when applied  to some evil fuck’s knee. I’m fucking two years old. I’m the perfect height for kneecapping.

Dick.

I pull myself away from my violent musings and finish cleaning poor little Gai. His eyes are starting to droop, no doubt he’s exhausted from his little outburst.

“‘Cmon. Let’s go find your dad” I say entreatingly “maybe we can even stop for your favourite noodles on the way home”.

Gai sniffs one great final time but with a wobbly smile and a thumbs up the two of us turn around and head back to the clearing, training for the day utterly forgotten.

 

———-

 

We do end up eating udon noodles. I happily give him all of my mushrooms.

 

———

 

It was bound to happen eventually. It was just a matter of time.

 

I stare down at my foot and the messy cut that’s gone clean through my shoe and dug deep into the meat of my heel.

There was a kunai utterly buried under leaves and dirt. I didn’t notice it at all and managed to step on it with all my weight.

I know I’m not vaccinated. I don’t even know if vaccines exist in this world yet.

I don’t want to get fucking tetanus.

“Shit” I hiss before quickly swallowing down my tongue and looking to see if Gai heard me. He’s off digging under some roots so I think I’m in the clear.

I try putting weight on my foot and wince in pain, quickly deciding that that’s a bad idea.

“Gai!” I shout, leaning against a tree to get a better look at the cut, blood already soaking into the fabric of my shoes. “Gai! Gai come here!”

Gai looks up like an excited puppy and bounds over, rotting leaves flying every which way at his approach.

“Careful!” I shout in a near scream. Gai stops on a dimey, mouth opening wide to no doubt ask a question.

“There’s a kunai in the ground. I stepped on it. You have to be careful, ok?”

Gai looks doubtful “you stepped on it?”

I nod

Gai still looks confused “you’re hurt?”

I nod again, unthinking.

Gai immediately bursts into tears, cries high and distressed. I smack myself with a palm, cursing my stupidity.

“Hey Gai! Hey! It’s going to be ok! Ok?” I try, making my baby voice as light and sugary sweet as it can. It sounds absolutely nauseating. “It’s going to be ok. I just need your help right now, ok Gai? Can you be brave and help me, Gai?”

Gai doesn’t exactly _stop_ crying but he lets out a shuddering “okay” followed by some more crying and then an eventual “I can be b-brave”. The poor dear is coughing he’s crying so hard.

“Come here okay? I can’t walk very good right now and you’re very strong! Okay? Youre going to help me walk to my mom and your Papa, okay? Do you think you can do that?” Gai looks up at me, eyes ever hopeful “‘m st-st-strong?” He queries tremulously. I smile indulgently “you’re very strong and that’s why I need your help!”

Gai mouths “I’m strong” to himself before he begins to calm and instead begins to burn with a fiery fervor. He launches himself at my side with more enthusiasm than grace and says “I’ll take you to Papa super fast! The fastest!”

 

Together we manage to limp back to the clearing, leaving behind a small trail of blood. We were slow going but we got there eventually. Immediately once we arrive Gai separates from my side and says “I’m gonna get Papa” in what could be a conspiratory whisper before darting off screaming “Papa!” at the top of his lungs.

The volume is honestly quite impressive.

I hobble my way over to Ren’s pack and fish around for her water canteen. The damn thing is nearly half my size and it’s a struggle to get it up and out. I peel off my shoe, cursing internally the whole while. I then start to flush the wound, splashing sun warmed water on the cut (and all over myself in the process).

Whether it’s due to Gai’s truly prodigious use of projection or the fact that they were nearby, our parents both arrive in the clearing in a rush, leaves flying every which way. Ren assess the situation and whirls towards me, gathering me up in her arms.

“Sorry to cut today’s training so short, Maito-san, but we must be off to the hospital. Thank you for helping my daughter, Gai-kun”

Dai shouted something but it was lost to a whirlwind of leaves.

  


———-

  


Ren transports me to the hospital well within target time. She hurries past the open doors and directly to the receptionist.

“Excuse me, my daughter is injured. A cut on her foot-“

“I stepped on a rusty kunai. I don’t want tetanus” I interrupt like I’m ordering in a fast food drive through. The receptionist gives me an odd look but eventually gets up and ushers us both into a nearby waiting room. The walls are green and chipped, the chairs plastic and irreparably scuffed.

“A medic-nin will be by shortly” the receptionist states flatly before turning on her heel and walking off. Ren sighs, adjusts her hold on me, and then takes a seat in one of the chairs. It makes a threatening cracking sound.

 

It takes nearly three hours before a medic-nin actually comes by to see us. She’s most likely in her thirties with her hair pulled back into a stern bun. She’s not wearing scrubs -which honestly throws me off- but rather a black shirt, a utility belt that wouldn’t look out of place on Batman, and those stupid open toe shoes. She has bags under her eyes and looks like she’s on the verge of biting someone’s head off.

“Hirai Ren, Arashi Hisui. My name is Tanaka Kotone. Please follow me.”

Mom promptly stands and carries me into another room. This one is lit from above with several humming fluorescent lights. An examination table dominates the space, paper crisp and clean atop it. A sink is set against the wall, piping totally visible. There’s a large brown stain on the wall in the corner.

Once mom has me sitting on the table I lift my foot up and show Kotone. She doesn’t waste a second and immediately stoops down to get a closer look. The cut has long since stopped bleeding.

“Good. You’ve cleaned the wound” Kotone mutters. Mother’s lips thin but she doesn’t say a thing. It's not exactly common for a two year old to know that a wound needs cleaning. I’m pretty sure most two year olds are still in the “kiss it better” stage. Regardless, I appreciate her not ratting me out.

Kotone then flares chakra on her hands. Now that I’m not freaking out about magic I actually pay close attention to what she’s doing. From what I can tell, the energy she is displaying is utterly devoid of any elemental affinity and soon begins to match the same… wavelength? That I produce. From the feeling I’m getting her hand could very well be an extension of my own body.

 

It’s a little disconcerting.

 

She continues to pass her glowing green hand over my heel until it eventually heals (haha I’m so funny). There’s just the faintest silver mark in the shape of a crescent moon where the cut was.

The sight of the healed scar is nearly enough to make me cry.

What if this power had existed in my previous world? Would I have suffered as much then? Would I have had to die then?

 

It was almost too painful to contemplate.

 

During my moment of inattention, Kotone stands up straight and with barely a whisper of fabric steps out of the room. It only takes her a couple minutes before she’s back with a small satchel. Beneath the pulsing fluorescent lights I can see the shadow of pills outlined against the square envelope.

“Her wound is healed but there might be poison in her blood. Give her one of these pills a day. If she won’t take them try masking them with treats or food. If her condition worsens bring her back to the hospital immediately.”

 

Ren nods, accepting the parcel with an open hand.

 

“One more thing” Kotone says as my mother stands, balancing me on her hip. Ren smiles mildly “yes, Takada-san?”

“Earlier Hisui mentioned Tetanus. I’m wondering how a two year old knows about such a thing”

 

Ah fuck.

Me and my big fucking mouth.

 

“Oh, Hi-chan likes picking up every bit and bauble she finds. I told her about it in order to scare her off the habit, but I think I may have scared her a little too well” Ren lies smoothly, her expression the model example of a chagrined parent.

 

“Hm” says Kotone, but she lets it lie.

  


————-

  


Ren gets shipped out with the next wave.

 

When she drops me off at KFC she kisses me on the brow and hugs me tight, the scent of weapon oil shard as I’m pressed into her shoulder.

 

“Be good Hi-chan, okay?” She says while smoothing her fingers through my hair “be smart”. I nod gravely, trying to keep myself from crying. She’s heading out into the unknown, into total uncertain, unwritten chaos.

“You too” I manage, staring at her face and committing it to memory. Her brown eyes shine and a single tear traces its way down her face, rolling down her beauty mark before dropping off her pointed chin.

 

God, she’s so _young_.

 

And with that she stands and heads over to her team; milling about on a roof and providing us the illusion of privacy. Once she bounds up to join them they all leap away, like birds disappearing upon the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was filled with a writing fervour the past few days and managed to type out this chapter in record speed! 
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you all! Thanks for all the kudos! They always brighten my day!


	10. Small bird made of blue. People thought nothing of you.

KFC becomes busier than ever in the following months, and as such becomes an even better location to gather intel through the age old method of listening in on conversations.

 

There’s a near constant flood of shinobi parents coming and going. Through them it soon becomes quite clear that the war is becoming larger in scale than many would have hoped for. Fighting against Stone was daunting but nothing that the largest and oldest Hidden Village couldn’t handle. However, Sand had seen an opportunity and crept into the fray like a slow acting poison, innocuous at first but devastating in short order.

As a trap specialist Ren was in high demand, and would only return to the village a couple weeks at a time before shipping out again for months at a time. Every time she returns she looks more and more exhausted, bags under her eyes and chakra not as still and calm as before.

 

Every month the death toll rises, and every month things get more and more dire on the war front. Relief and supplies from Whirlpool is something the village is immensely grateful for.

 

This is around the time that word begins to spread of an up and coming hero.

Hatake Sakumo is the name on everyone’s lips these days. A brilliant fiend on the battlefield, Sakumo tears through enemies with his gleaming white chakra Sabre. He becomes known as a one man army. Other ninja know that they’ll survive another day once he arrives on the battlefield. The Leaf’s enemies begin to know him as Konoha’s White Fang, words spoken in awed dread.

 

I see Sakumo from time to time, walking about Konoha. He seems to have no shortage of friends surrounding him, which makes his fate all the more somber.

 

It… hurts looking at him, knowing what’s to come, knowing his ignoble end.

 

Hurts even worse when I spy Kakashi with him, carried by a loving father and both eyes bright in utter adoration.

 

—————-

 

I stop by the Maito household quite often in my explorations of Konoha.

I _technically_ shouldn’t, but it is much preferable to spending too much time in the KFC. For all the information I can gather the place is horribly chaotic with screaming children all over the place. It’s not really something you want to be exposed to for any length of time.

 

Dai seems to be torn with how to handle my sudden appearances. On one hand, he oftentimes encourages my independence and “effort”, but on the other hand admonishes abandoning the childcare facility and running off on my own. Regardless, the man has a truly incredible amount of D rank tasks to complete in a day and most likely appreciates me distracting his very young son. I personally hope he finds me a good influence on the boy, as he remarks most uh approvingly of my mothering tendencies.

There are tears. A lot of ‘em.

 

We’ve graduated from mere kunai maintenance to actually throwing, as well moving onto maintaining other kinds of weapons -such as shuriken and wire. Dai is most helpful in these endeavours, and despite being children and generally quite terrible at what we’re doing, Gai and I are grateful for the assistance.

Gai’s aim is absolutely terrible, and despite my improved hand eye coordination in this life I can’t quite reach the targets either. I simply can’t put enough force behind my throws to have the weapon actually _hit_ its intended target.

 

What does improve however is my chakra control.

 

With little to no adult supervision I take my chances and attempt water walking. Training ground 8 has a small pond in the middle of it. The contents of the stagnant water -only recently freed from winter’s icy grasp- are incentive enough to never fall in. Regardless, I stick to the shallower sections that present a lower risk of drowning.

It’s oddly easy considering how much the skill was lauded as difficult. It’s like a combination of snowboarding and skating, something you don’t really forget how to do. I still take my fair share of dips into the icy pond, learning the correct amount of chakra necessary for as many scenarios I can manage. There’s one notable instance where I manage to launch myself fully airborne, but beyond that I reach a point where water walking becomes almost instinctive. I have yet to try water walking out on any moving water, but the Nakano is too deep and far too cold for me to even think about doing such anytime soon.

 

\------------------------

 

I master tree walking in about an hour.

 

————————

 

Konoha winters are brief and snowy, their springs warm and rainy, their summers hot and humid.

 

We’re on the verge of summer, the spring flowers abundant and the village resounding with the chirping of insects. I’m standing beside the Nakano, watching the river flow past. It’s swollen with rain, slowly cutting across Konoha like a basking python.

 

I’ve managed to locate a good spot to attempt water walking on mobile water; a section of the Nakano that’s shallower than the rest, nestled between a grassy field and a birch wood forest. I can see small silver fish dart between silt and stones, the cat tails young and green. I take off my shoes and roll up my too-long pants, cautiously inching my way across the water’s surface. If I had to describe the feeling I’d have to say it’s most similar to walking on an icy conveyor belt with snowshoes that you have to build with each step. With magic.

...

Yeah.

 

It’s not to say it’s _impossible_ , but it’s actually difficult when compared to my prior chakra exercises.

 

I’ve managed to shuffle in a roller derby sized loop around the shallows when I finally notice someone’s chakra several feet away. It startles me enough that I instinctively recoil inwards and draw back the chakra keeping me afloat. I immediately plunge into the water, too shocked to make a sound.

 

I’m summarily yanked out of the water by the back of my shirt, spitting water and swinging wildly. The river is far colder than I thought it would be and I’m already freezing.

Eyeing me from where he’s holding me aloft is a teenager with hair pulled back in a messy high tail. One eyebrow is cocked as he looks down at me, the other one hidden under a large piece of taped on gauze. A secondary pad of gauze covers most of the entirety of his right cheek. His eye between both bandages is swollen shut, the other staring at me blandly.

“Hello?” I offer tentatively, still hanging by the scruff of my neck and blinking water out of my eyes. The teen blinks back once and his expression shifts from assessing to amused.

“If I put you down are you going to fall in again?” He asks, lips twisted into a rueful smile.

Any doubts I’d have on who this is are immediately extinguished.

 

This is Nara Shikaku, Shikamaru’s dad, future head of the Nara clan.

 

 _Hahaha!_ I laugh internally _I’m in danger!_

 

“Nope!” I say, bright and chipper “nope! I'm good! Put me down please!”

 

Shikaku sighs like I’ve inconvenienced him greatly and sets me down on the water’s surface. I manage to stay afloat and glance at the teen out of the corner of my eye. Shikaku is relaxed in a loose yukata the colour of pine needles, tucking his hand into his sleeves. The corner of his mouth ticks up just a little as he catches me looking and I hastily make my way back to the shore.

Once I’m standing stable on some rocks I look down at my soaked clothing with dismay. I’ve a rather limited supply available at KFC, and it will be a hassle to find a replacement that fits.

“Who taught you?” Shikaku asks, frank and to the point.

“Who taught me what, ojisan?” I say, playing dumb.

Shikaku’s one visible eyebrow twitches. Twice.

“Who taught you water walking?” He presses again, looking mighty unimpressed with my general existence.

 

 _Fuck_ I scream internally _what even works for an answer?? I can’t say my parents because they sure in the hell aren’t here!!! Think!!!_

 

“Nobody!” I burst out

 

“... you taught yourself?”

 

“Yep!”

_AAAA BRAIN NOO WHY That doesn’t work either! I’m two years old!_

 

“Hm” the boy hums, scratching at his chin “not bad. Keep at it.”

He then turns and leaps towards the forested side of the river in a single bound.

 

Is that seriously it?

 

Remembering _some_ manners I cup my hands around my mouth and shout “thanks for rescuing me ojisan!!” as loud as I possibly can.

Across the river Shikaku glares at me, deadpan and yet so very unimpressed. The shadows around him begin to writhe, but I’m already running.

It’s because of this that I miss his quiet laughter.

 

—————

 

I continue to practice water walking in the same spot and occasionally Shikaku comes to the other side of the river bank and supervises.

 

I’m climbing a tree in order to launch myself at the Nakano, Shikaku watching from the tree’s shade with a healthy level of incredulity.

“You’re a little terror aren’t you?” He asks, somewhat rhetorically.

“I’m exceedingly well behaved” I shoot back, as haughtily as I can manage. It's a little difficult, seeing as how I’m currently fending off a tree branch.

 

Shikaku’s disbelief is palpable.

 

Today he’s nursing a fawn on his lap, the poor thing abandoned by its mother and solely interested in the bottle of milk in the teen’s hand.

 

With careful application of too much chakra I launch myself at the Nakano. In a semi-controlled fall I hit the river on my hands and feet in what might be called a three point landing if one was being exceedingly generous. I don’t sink, however, which is the real important thing.

 

I’m skating back to the shoreline at a pace that’d make a speed skater jealous when Shikaku pipes up again.

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

He’s either being friendly or lazy because there is no way that a _Nara clan head-to-be_ wouldn’t be able to find out who I am. The blue hair is a _little_ distinct.

I hesitate, but… this is Shikaku. I’ve already been discovered, he already knows I’m smarter than I should be at my age. I _know_ that he’s a good man, and that someday he’ll be a great man.

 

“Arashi Hisui” I say, smiling and bowing politely.

 

Shikaku stares for a moment, sun and shadows dappling his face. He then chuckles softly.

“Kingfisher, huh? Fitting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure how I feel about this chapter? I wrote it brief periods between misfortunes, but I well and truly hope you all enjoy it!


	11. I can hear a blue bird sing, and hear a robin call, but yellow yellow daffodil I love you most of all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning of off-screen character death in the beginning of this chapter.

“Arashi Hisui?” A man asks from the entryway. Mrs Fujita nods and directs the ninja to where I’m currently wiping an entire pot’s worth of ink from Kurenai’s face and arms. I set the wet cloth down and eye the man from my spot on the floor. I don’t recognize him from the books, but that doesn’t really mean much. He appears unassuming, light brown hair cut short beneath his headband, dark eyes mild, posture impeccably straight. 

 

He zeroes I’m on me and in a couple strides he stands in front of me, never kneeling but looking down. 

“Arashi Hisui?” He asks once more. I nod my head hesitantly, unsure of what to make of someone looking for me specifically. Had Shikaku blabbed to someone after all this time? That wouldn’t make sense… he was shipped right back out into the thick of things once his injuries healed. 

“My name is Shiranui Shoku. Come with me” the strange nin commands, tone brokering no disagreement. 

I look to Kurenai but it’s not like she’s gonna be a great help. The poor dear is four and thought that ink might taste like takoyaki. 

 

Reluctantly I stand, dusting off my black halter top and my grey hakama pants - an off hand gift from Shikaku when he noticed that nothing I had currently fit me (not that he’d ever willingly admit to doing so)- and follow the stranger out of KFC. Outside is a beautiful summer day with a sky so blue it looks artificial; not a single cloud in view. Cicadas chirrup noisily from the trees in a rambunctious summer cacophony. 

 

The stranger doesn’t say so much as a word to me the entire trip, which isn’t that odd considering I’m a month shy of 3. However, what does stand out is his pace. He walks intentionally slowly so that we’re walking side by side the whole way, a rather large concession for a ninja. Our destination thankfully soon becomes clear - the Administration Building stands tall and red against the Hokage monument, it’s grey spires gleaming in the hot summer sun. 

Trepidation fills me as we step into the building’s interior. There’s no real reason for me to  _ be  _ here. Still, I wordlessly follow Shoku up the narrow staircase and into the Administration Division proper. Harried looking ninja dart from desk to desk, veritable mountains of papers and scrolls littering each and every available surface. Strangely, we bypass the desks entirely and make our way to the large double doors beyond them. 

 

That can’t be good. 

 

I drag my feet behind Shoku, who doesn’t remark upon my sudden reluctance. 

 

Once past the doors Shoku stands at attention and clearly states “I’ve brought Arashi Hisui Hokage-sama” 

“Hmm” a voice rumbles from the other side of the desk, deep and smoke-thick. My feeling of dread intensifies. This really can’t be good. 

 

“Thank you, Shiranui-san. That will be all” 

Shoku nods his head and bows deferentially before leaving, closing the door behind him. 

 

Standing behind his desk and clothed in his full ceremonial garb is the third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen. 

 

“Hello Hisui-chan” he says kindly “do you know who I am?” 

I nod, a little thrown at the  _ Hokage _ referring to me by my first name. I  _ reall _ y don’t want him to. I’d gladly accept anonymity at the moment. 

 

The older man walks around the desk until we’re facing one another. He then crouches down until we’re looking eye to eye. My anxiety ramps up to 11, a cold sweat running down my back. 

 

“If you remember, Hisui-chan, I sent your father on a most important mission to a land far away”

 

“Uzushiogakure” I say on a breath

 

The Hokage nods once “a mission that would keep all the people of Konoha safe-“

 

No

 

“-but Konoha has many enemies-“ he then pulls out two scrolls, one white with gold trim, the other sky blue and  _ familiar  _

 

No no  _ no _

 

He presses the scrolls into my lax hands and I can barely feel them. The kanji for “body” stands out on the white scroll, stark and final and black. It encompasses the entirety of my vision. 

 

‘ _ Body’...  _ how cold 

 

“-attack. Your father left to try to warn Konoha, but his injuries were too great-“

 

Why wouldn’t he  _ listen _ ?! I told him not to go! 

 

“-your father died a hero, Hisui-chan, a loyal ninja of the leaf.”

 

I press my brow to the body scroll and clench my eyes against the tears. 

 

——————

 

Arashi Satoru is posthumously awarded Konoha citizenship, and as such is permitted a funeral within the village. 

 

There are many people at the wake, though I am the only one there for Satoru. I don’t know if Ren has been informed, but she is still out fighting in the war. 

 

The wake is a somber yet crowded affair. During this time of war there are many families whose loved ones have been killed. This particular funeral is exceptionally crowded as Konoha collectively mourns the passing of not only their own, but an entire village. To my left is an older child with long red hair, head bowed and back heaving with heavy sobs. No one is there to offer her any comfort so I slip my hand into hers and squeeze. 

 

Kushina starts for a moment, blinking down at me before she begins to cry all the harder. 

 

That’s all right. 

 

She, out of everyone here, deserves to cry. 

 

The Hokage himself gives the funeral speech for the fallen land of Whirlpool, speaking slowly and sadly of our longstanding alliance, the shame and sorrow of Konoha at the loss of their sister. My father is briefly mentioned to the populace at large for briefly attempting to save Uzushio by calling on Konoha, an attempt that failed due to the interference of Kumo-nin, only now entering the fray. 

 

My father’s body is one of the only ones to be interred today, beneath a lonely headstone under a great blue sky. 

 

————————

 

My walk back to the apartment is quiet, the entire village silent in shock and grief. 

 

_ You knew _ a voice hisses in my mind 

 

_ You knew and you never said anything _

 

I’m walking up the stairwell to our apartment level, my ill-fitting funeral attire catching on each of the steps

 

_ You knew and you were too stupid too  _ **_useless_ ** _ to save anyone _

 

I unlock the door and what greets me there is a surprise. 

 

Maito Dai and Maito Gai look up from where they’re assembling a butsudan, hammer in Dai’s hand, incense bowl in Gai’s, wooden panels scattered about. The pair look rather sheepish, having been caught red handed. 

 

“Ah! We are most sorry for the intrusion, Hisui-chan! We thought you’d be heading right to the Childcare Facility…” Dai divulges, abashed. 

 

The cold churning guilt that has been consuming me this entire time is put on the back burner, replaced instead with a flood of gratitude. 

 

I immediately burst into tears, launching myself at the alarmed looking Maito family and pulling them both into as strong a hug I can manage. 

  
  


—————

 

Dai brings Gai and myself to the Administration Division to collect an image of Satoru for the butsudan. Cameras aren’t so common that everyone has pictures laying about, but apparently Satoru does have an official photograph attached to his ninja ID. 

 

He looks young in the image we’re given. Hair short enough it barely curls past his ears, gracing the photographer with a soft smile. He’s wearing a purple flak jacket -of all things- and has his face mask pulled down to his neck. Across his forehead is an unfamiliar headband, one marked with an unknown symbol. 

 

I’d always figured my dad was a foreigner, just based off of the way others reacted to him. Seeing the proof for myself is a whole other matter. Now the villager’s viritol, the claims of “traitor”, make more sense. He really was a foreign ninja, possibly even a missing nin who betrayed his own people. That’s hard enough to trust, but the villagers never saw the man who worked long hours night after night for their benefit, nor did they see the gentleness in his everyday actions, the kindness. 

 

“Excuse me” I say to the no-doubt overworked ninja manning one of the many desks in the Administration Division “but what does this symbol mean?” I point to my father’s headband. The young woman sighs in a clearly aggrieved way but does lean forwards to take a look, disturbing literal mounds of paperwork. 

“It’s the symbol that the Sora no Kuni ninja wear” she states matter of fact, and with that she sits back down and the conversation ends. 

 

Land of Sky, huh? 

 

Wasn’t a place I’d ever heard about. 

 

—————

 

That night I fall asleep curled around my father’s blue scroll, the embossed edges digging into my palms. 

 

Come morning, Mrs Fujita says nothing about the redness of my eyes, nor does she speak of my tear stained pillow. 

 

—————

 

I’m three years old and the war has been raging for a year. 

 

In Konoha the cicadas continue to sing, their empty shells littering the trees. 

 

—————

 

I’m awoken by whispers in the middle of the night. 

In the hallway Mrs Fujita is quietly speaking with someone, and after a moment the owner of the second voice and the second chakra source becomes clear. 

 

Ren. 

 

It’s been something like 4 months since I saw her last, not once since Satoru… 

 

I close my eyes and relax my body, keeping my breathing slow and even. The door to my room is opened shortly thereafter, the light from the hallway spilling against my eyelids and the other sleepers in the room. 

I feel a warm hand brush my hair from my forehead, the blue strands tickling my brow. Above me, Ren takes a breath that trembles. The moment seems to stretch out and hold, utterly silent, just between the two of us, as fragile as a butterfly’s wings. 

 

Carefully, Ren leans down and gently lifts me until I’m cradled against her, arms holding me close. Father’s scroll presses into my neck uncomfortably but I can hear my mother’s heartbeat loud and clear against my ear, slow and steady. 

 

We stay together in that room until it is morning light that filters in past the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off:  
> I AM SO SORRY! 
> 
> Second:  
> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos so far! They really make my day each time I see them. I appreciate each and every one of you. 100 kudos!
> 
> Third:  
> SORRY AGAIN


	12. Beautiful are the stars in the dim sky when fireflies, in the silence of the night, shine and the leaves dance with the tempest wind as the clouds clad itself with darkness

“Hi-chan, time to wake up” 

 

I groan, twisting into my pillow. It smells musty enough that I’m convinced to crack an eye open. Ren is crouched next to the bed, head resting on her folded arms, brown hair in a long loose spill. 

 

She smiles when she sees me looking, beauty mark crinkling at the corner of her eye. 

 

“Come on Hi-chan” she cajoles “wakey wakey” 

 

It’s nice to see her smile so I grab Satoru’s scroll and obediently roll out of bed. Despite my being too big Ren stoops down to pick me up, carrying me into the kitchen to inspect the fridge. 

 

The contents -abandoned since Ren’s last deployment- are practically sentient. Ren promptly  _ slams _ the door shut as we both gag over the smell. 

That… will have to be dealt with. 

 

But not by me! Score! 

 

“What do you say we go on a shopping trip, hmm Hi-chan?” Mom says after visibly collecting herself, a sheepish flush to her cheeks. 

 

————-

 

With the two of us sporting high ponytails Ren and I leave the apartment and make our way into the village market. 

 

We’re wandering the stalls -sparcer than usual with trade being heavily controlled in war times- and picking out fresh ingredients when my mom stops in surprise. 

 

Across the merchant’s selection of produce is Hatake Sakumo - the Uzushio spiral bright and red on his right arm. 

 

Around him others notice -not just The White Fang- but the symbol of the Land of Whirlpools. 

 

——————

 

Ren sits at the kitchen table, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. Her fist is curled against her brow, eyes screwed shut as she cries as quietly as she can. In front of her lies her uniform and a spool of red thread. 

 

In the hallway I clutch the sky blue scroll all the tighter. 

 

——————

 

In the following days Ren walks with her head high, Whirpool spiral emblazoned confidently on her arm. 

 

In the following weeks many others follow The White Fang’s lead, honouring their fallen comrades with the Uzushio spiral. 

 

A sea of red to honour the dead. 

 

——————

 

It’s a hot muggy day when I finally open the scroll. 

 

To be fair, until that point I had no clue what was  _ in  _ the scroll. It could have been rigged to explode for all I knew. I didn’t want to ask Ren because she just seemed so… fragile since Satoru died. I didn’t want to set her off. I could wait. 

 

Ren ended up being the one who broached the subject, asking why I hadn’t opened it.

 

“Uhm…” I started, intelligently “can…I?”

 

Ren blinked, somewhat bemused 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Okay?”

What even  _ is _ this conversation 

 

I continue watching Ren out of the corner of my eye as I  _ ever so slowly _ place the scroll on the couch -if this thing blows I’m taking the abomination out with me- and pop open the clasp. 

 

There’s no hydraulic hiss or flash of light.

 

It’s a little anticlimactic. 

 

Ren looks at me with an unreadable  _ something _ in her eye, mouth just a little twisted to the side as I slowly and carefully unfurl the scroll. Her chakra brings to mind the taste of arctic lake water tarnished with silt; bittersweet. 

The first thing I notice is the writing all over the scroll. Dad’s writing. My eyes immediately set to stinging and I sniff a couple times, as quietly as I can. Ren hums knowingly and rubs a soothing hand over my back. It helps some. 

I itch to run my fingers over his precise calligraphy, as familiar to me as my own signature, but I dare not risk damaging the script with a child’s sweaty palms. 

The second thing I notice is what the scroll contains. In the center of dizzying arrays of geometric script lie several images, simple in design. The first on the scroll is instantly familiar: Satoru’s glider. In ink the glider looks more like an albatross’ outline than anything else. I’m a little shocked to see it sealed away in the first place, convinced that it had been lost somewhere between Konoha and Uzushio, but I’m incredibly glad as well. Following the glider is what appears to be several more scrolls, weapons, and other such supplies. There’s quite a number of items throughout the scroll and yet there is still a considerable amount of space at the end. 

 

“Here” Ren says “watch me Hi-chan” and she holds up her hand, funneling chakra to the flat of her palm and fingers. It doesn’t feel any different from what I’ve attempted before so I nod my understanding. Ren watches me a second longer before placing the flat of her hand against the sealing paper, above the depiction of a scroll. 

 

Nothing happens. 

 

Ren’s brow furrows and she removes her hand before placing it back on the scroll, hand glowing a brighter blue. 

 

Still nothing happens. 

 

Ren then shifts her hand to the next thing on the scroll -what looks like a brace of shuriken- and finally those appear with a small expulsion of smoke. She furrows her brow and sets to summoning each and every item from the scroll. I immediately step back, wary as the space gradually begins to fill with all sorts of ninja essentials. 

At the end of Ren’s fervent search only three items remain in the scroll. 

The stack of scrolls, the glider, and what looks like an ink and brush kit. 

 

We both stare at the scroll, at a loss. 

 

_______________

 

I’m watching Ren who’s watching the water boil, silent as the kettle continues to screech. 

 

“Mom?” I hesitantly venture

 

Ren’s eyes snap to me and back to the kettle, eventually turning off the heat with a small and enigmatic smile. 

 

I shuffle back into the kitchen, keeping an eye on Ren the entire time. 

What the hell was that about?

 

_______________

 

The following morning I’m woken bright and early -earlier than I would normally wake up for my exercise even- by an excited Ren. 

 

“Hi-chan~!” Ren sing-songs “time to wake up, little bird~!”

I grumble but obediently get up, combing my fingers through my hair. Ren happily leads me to the living room where the mess from yesterday has long since been tucked away. The scroll now lies on pride of place on our coffee table, however, two couch cushions have been pulled from the couch proper and placed on the floor. 

 

Ren eagerly leads me to the couch cushion and has me take a seat, following soon after in a cross-legged pose. I shift my posture to mimic hers and she smiles winningly at me. 

 

“Today” Ren begins once we’ve both been comfortably situated “We’re going to be learning about Chakra” 

I nod my head in understanding and Ren begins anew. What follows is a generalized lesson describing how chakra is a combination of physical and spiritual energy, that this energy is produced in the chakra coils and then circulates around one’s body. This impromptu lesson is pretty standard to what I remember from the books -though I only vaguely remember the “chakra coils” bit- when it suddenly deviates. 

Ren suddenly becomes more serious “now, Hi-chan, sometimes a person’s chakra is different than others. Sometimes this means that this person has what is called a ‘Kekkei Genkai’’ 

I can’t help but stiffen at the term, one that is far too familiar. 

“Your father was very special, Hi-chan” Ren continues, barrelling through my discomfort “because he came from a place far away called Sora no Kuni. The shinobi there can  _ fly _ ” 

Ren’s expression does not change but her chakra begins to feel more like rain-heavy clouds -wistful and sad. 

“This is because the shinobi from Sora no Kuni have a Kekkei Genkai that lets them make mist natured chakra”

I’m still floored by the revelation that my dad had a bloodline-limit… one that lets him fly of all things. 

Now, I knew that he could fly. I  _ saw _ the glider. But I figured that was more by virtue of something special with the glider that my dad was using, paired with the fact that flying couldn’t have been  _ that _ rare a skill. I’m pretty sure that four-ponytail girl from Sand and some other people were capable of flight. 

Apparently it was still rare enough to be rather notable. 

 

“Do you remember Dad’s scroll, Hi-chan? Remember how Mommy couldn’t open it?” 

I nod, pretty certain where this is going. 

“That’s because Daddy was very s-smart” Ren says, choking on the last word. She takes a moment and a deep breath before continuing. “Daddy wanted to make sure that no one could steal his precious things, so he made the scroll so that only mist chakra could open it.”

 

Ren’s smile is tremulous, yet her gaze is intent and piercing 

 

“That’s because he wanted  _ you _ to have these things Hi-chan. Because Daddy loved you so so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait! Life has been insanely busy as of late! Work schedule got switched around so I’m usually working 20 hours overtime every week. Money’s good but the hours suck and I’ve been too burned out to write a single thing for months!  
> Here’s hoping things calm down for the next little bit and I can churn something out a bit faster! 
> 
>  
> 
> Regardless, I hope y’all enjoyed this chapter! Thanks as always for reading ❤️


	13. When you give, give like the widow. Keep it on the down-low, however you live, just give

Ren starts me off by teaching me how to meditate. It’s something I already know how to do, but fussing seems ungrateful and so I pay attention regardless.

 

She eventually moves on to the leaf exercise.

 

Once again, this is nothing new. At this point, however, I need to play a very careful game. If I pick it up too quickly I risk the chance of being labelled a prodigy and enlisted too early in war times. I don’t care that the Naruto-verse thinks it's perfectly okay to throw children into the jaws of war, but I’m no Hatake Kakashi. I’ve got the advantage of wisdom but not battle prowess or anything of the sort. If I get thrown into the thick of things I _will_ die.

 

I’ve got to be strong, but unnoticed.

 

So instead of latching the leaf to any of my extremities like I know I can, I keep the amount of chakra I expel to a pitiful trickle. The leaf sticks to me no better than a yen coin would on a sweaty forehead, falling off after mere moments.

 

Ren doesn’t _look_ suspicious, and her chakra feels brighter - happy, or perhaps proud.

 

After a few tries Ren declares that the mental aspect of training is done. She then stands, returns the couch cushions to their proper place and leads me outside to training ground 8.

 

What follows is a series of stretches and warming up exercises. Ren then has me run a few laps along the forest trails until I’m huffing and puffing, then transitioning into other exercises that focus on different muscle groups of the body.

 

I have been exercising daily at this point, but my ideas of what I needed to work on don’t really compare to an actual ninja’s exercise routine. I know that by tomorrow I will be aching all over.

 

Ren does not immediately move on to teaching me how to use weapons. Instead, she sits cross legged on the forest floor with a little white pebble directly in front of her.

 

“Okay Hi-chan, you need to grab the stone, ok?”

 

I nod hesitantly, untrusting of the simplicity of the exercise. A certain bell test comes to mind.

 

I slowly reach out to pick up the little rock, watching Ren’s eyes all the while, when suddenly, Ren’s hand lashes out -faster than I can even _see_ \- and knocks my hand away. It stings. I hiss and recoil, narrowing my eyes at my mother.

 

Ren smiles back placidly, not a hair out of place.

 

“Go ahead Hi-chan, grab the stone”

 

This time, I dart out with my right hand, my left following in a clearly telegraphed move, while subtly attempting to sweep my leg out and kick the stone away from Ren. She merely grabs me by the arm and tosses me lightly aside.

I’m both literally and figuratively thrown. Wasn’t really expecting her to go that hands on.  

 

I scowl and pick myself up, dusting off the seat of my pants and once again crouching in front of Ren, eyes narrowed and waiting.

I have way more patience than a toddler my age should have. I’m willing to wait until Ren gets bored or distracted to make another attempt.

 

When I make no immediate move Ren smiles in what feels like amusement, but also approval.

  


—————-

  


So continues our training for the next little while. It would seem that Ren was given bereavement leave, as she’s typically never home for this long- her particular skill set in high demand during war times.

 

Ren makes certain I understand that I need to keep up with all the training she provides, even if she’s not there.

 

We start to form a routine: we wake up bright and early -before the sun- and start practicing meditation and chakra control exercises. We then have a healthy (if somewhat tasteless) breakfast before moving on to physical exercises. We do the physical exercises until lunch, eventually taking a break so I can practice my calligraphy. We then have supper -the third chair still in its usual place at the dinner table-and the rest of the day is left for me to do as I please, which I largely devote to attempting to create mist natured chakra. I don’t have any hand signs and am not really sure how hand signs are supposed to help? So I’m flying pretty blind overall.

 

A lot of my free time is spent with the Maito family, Ren going out of her way to invite them over after she learned what they did for us after Satoru’s death.

 

Once night arrives I collapse in bed and immediately slip into a deep sleep, only waking once morning comes to repeat the whole process anew.

  


—————

  


Ren and I are eating lunch - plain rice with steamed veggies that have most likely seen better days- when we hear knocking at the door.

 

Now, typically, the only people who bother to knock at our door are the Maitos, who subscribe to the belief that a guest’s knock should mirror one’s boundless enthusiasm of the imminent meeting so that the host feels properly appreciated. I’m frankly surprised Ren’s only had to repaint the door once.

 

This knock, however, is timid. I stretch out my awareness - that is coincidentally growing bigger each day- and the chakra signature is not familiar to me. I can feel their nervousness, their stress, anxiety, hope, and fear - like a smoky campfire that might snuff itself out.

 

Ren wipes her hands on her pants and goes to answer the door, disarming the traps as she goes.

 

On the other side is an older woman, hair cut into a sensible bob that has just started to go undeniably grey. She’s not familiar to me in anyway, and based off of Ren’s confusion and suspicion I’d say she doesn’t know this woman either.

Hastily, the woman bends into a rather low bow, startling Ren and I with the formality.

 

“My apologies for intruding, Hirai-san” the mystery woman says, righting herself with an apologetic smile, brushing the wrinkles out of her kimono “my name is Matsuoka Yasu… I’m very sorry to trouble you”

“How can I help you?” Ren asks, self consciously rubbing at a newly made stain on her pants, still quite clearly confused.

 

“Well, you see… my son… my son is going to be deployed in Ame with the next wave. He’s just recently made chunin -a field promotion you see- and well… I worry” the woman wrings her hands together “... previously my son bought his supplies from an Uzushio merchant, but the merchant went back to resupply before… well… before that horrible business with Kiri… my boy’s done the best he can, really, but it’s just not the same. He tries to keep me from worrying, but I know that he’s running low on tags. He can’t make them fast enough… or… or good enough. Not for Ame. And well…” the woman’s voice breaks momentarily “...with Uzushio gone the seal shortage is really quite terrible. Most shops are out of _everything_ and the ones that do have anything to sell… well, the prices are just too high for us to afford”

The woman’s hands are red from her nervous fidgeting, face flushed with emotion.

Ren is standing stock still.

“... but I was asking around the markets… and well a couple people told me that your… your husband sells them tags sometimes… and well, I know that’s not exactly… well… _legal_ … but you’re my last hope for my son… please help me keep my son safe”

Ren opens her mouth to speak, slow like spreading ice and the woman barrels off, obviously worried of being rejected

“And I can pay! I don’t have much… but this could save my son’s life… please” she straightens from a second bow, eyes gleaming.

 

Ren sighs, shoulders falling low. I wince internally, withdrawing my chakra sense and hunching over my bowl.

 

“Matsuoka-san… my husband was killed in Uzushio”

 

“Oh” the woman says

 

“Oh I’m terribly s-sorry” there’s a muffled sob and then Ren sighs again, softer this time.

 

“Come on, come inside and I’ll get you a cup of tea”

 

There’s the sound of shuffling footsteps and further crying. Ren has one arm wrapped around Ms. Matsuoka’s shoulders and is gently guiding her over to the living room. I immediately put my food down and reach out for my cup - clean and one without chips, thank goodness- and the kettle of tea Ren had prepared herself.

I fill the cup carefully, and apply just the faintest bit of chakra to my hands so as not to spill while easing myself out of my chair.

 

Ren takes the cup from me with a somewhat relieved air, passing it on to Ms. Matsuoka who accepts it between profuse apologies.

 

I watch the scene for a moment, my gut churning, when an idea comes to me. I double check no one needs me for something and then dart off to the bedroom, picking up and unrolling the sky blue sealing scroll. I keep unrolling it until I get to a specific tile, pressing just a tap of chakra into the page. With just the faintest wisps of smoke, a single bundle of explosive tags -about the size and width of a cheque book- appears on the bed. I _carefully_ remove one of the tags, placing it back in the scroll before collecting the rest of the bundle in my hands.

 

I stare at them for a minute.

 

I turn around and walk into the living room. Ms. Matsuoka is following Ren’s guidance and taking calm, measured breaths. I square my shoulders, and with a deep inhale, march over to the woman’s knees and present the tag bundle. Ren looks shocked, and it takes Ms. Matsuoka a little bit to wipe her tears away and notice what I’m holding out to her.

 

“W-wha-?”

 

“These are the last ones” I tell her, a little sternly “so make sure your son uses them wisely, okay?”

 

“That’s very generous of you, Hi-chan” Ren says, an unusual gravitas in her tone.

 

I shuffle my feet, embarrassed. Shit. I really hope those tags weren’t for her. Ren _did_ say the scroll was mine and so far she hadn’t really had any interest in it beyond teaching me how it works and-

 

“Oh” Ms. Matsuoka says, tears flowing anew and ghibli-esque “th-thank you… thank you”

 

I nod, pressing the packet into her hands.

“Make sure he’s careful” I reiterate “okay?”

 

Ms. Matsuoka bobs her head, somewhat dazedly “I… yes. Okay”

 

Having gotten an affirmative, I pat the woman’s knee, turn on my heel, and make my way to the bedroom, hiding out until I hear the front door open and close.

 

Ren comes into the bedroom a moment later, an odd expression on her face. This close, I can’t help but feel her emotions, tumultuous and chaotic like storm tossed waters.

She watches me as I carefully set down a newly fluffed pillow next to it’s equally fluffed match, and keeps watching me as I shift around nervously.

 

Eventually Ren moves to stand directly beside me, bending down and wordlessly hugging me close. I relax and press my face into her shoulder, inhaling her now-familiar scent.

 

We both feel… a lot right now, so a hug says more than words ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys believe me if I said that each and every single chapter has been written on my phone so far? I don’t know why I make some of the life choices that I do... like why am I posting this at midnight when I need to be up for work in three hours.... oops? Kinda sorta no regrets? 
> 
> Aaanyways! Now we start to see the effects of the war start to change things in Konoha proper! Oh dear! But Hisui is actually getting some solid training now, with actual direction! Hurray!


End file.
